


behind these metaphors i like you literally

by wingsoutforshin (7daysoftorture)



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Meitantei Conan Movie 23: Konjou no Fisuto | The Fist of Blue Sapphire, Pining, Pre-Slash, kaito is also pining but you can't tell here lol, on shinichi's end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:27:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21516034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7daysoftorture/pseuds/wingsoutforshin
Summary: A 'what if Shinichi had helped KID wrap his bandages on that rooftop in blue sapphire' AU.
Relationships: Kudou Shinichi | Edogawa Conan/Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid
Comments: 25
Kudos: 489





	behind these metaphors i like you literally

**Author's Note:**

> i finally watched m23 and i NEEDED to write something for it

He finds KID sitting with bandages strewn all around him, shoulders hunched forward, giving Shinichi a full view of the wounds on his sides and back - bullets that passed too close for comfort and drew enough blood to stain his skin all the way down his ribs. It sends a shot of pain through his chest, makes him feel irrationally angry at himself for not having been there to prevent what happened, even though he knows there was nothing he could've done to help, no way he could've predicted how things would turn out. 

"KID," he says, stepping around the wall and slowly moving closer. 

KID doesn't react besides a slight raise of a hand in greeting. He's not wearing his hat, Shinichi notices, and when he inches forward and around to take a look at his face, he realizes he doesn't have his monocle either. KID's face is bare, no make-up, no masks, no hood thrown over his head and pulled over his eyes. Nothing. And the fact that he doesn't so much as twitch at having Shinichi look at him so closely must mean he's either confident that Shinichi wouldn't be able to find him by face or he trusts him enough to know he wouldn't try. The thought that it might be the latter sends a shiver down his spine. 

"They really did a number on you, huh," Shinichi says, boldly lifting one hand to KID's chin and tilting it back so he can properly look at the cuts on his cheek. 

"Yeah," KID chuckles, and then hisses, jaw clenched in pain. 

Shinichi eyes the bandages on the floor and sighs. "Let me help you wrap those, it'll probably be easier and faster if I do it."

KID nods, fingers fisted in the folds of his pants. It's unusual for him to agree without a fight and it tells Shinichi that he must be hurting more than he's letting on. He grabs one of the cotton wads inside the pack by KID's feet and squeezes the bottle of alcohol KID reluctantly hands over until the wad is soaked all the way through.

"This will hurt a bit," he says, and KID turns his face away, gesturing for him to go on. 

The first few wounds are easier to clean, more shallow and on the surface than anything else, but when he gets to the ones on KID's back, he realizes the skin got cut deeper than he'd first assumed, flesh red and irritated. To his relief, there's no sign of infection, though from the way KID is biting his lip to stop from making any noise that doesn’t seem to make much of a difference in the face of alcohol against open flesh.

"I'll try to make it quick," he says, and continues cleaning with the precision and care he’s used to getting from Haibara. “What are you planning to do to get the jewel now that you’ve been framed for yet another murder?” he asks, in an attempt to distract KID from the searing hot pain he must be feeling.

KID doesn’t immediately answer, busy tensing at every slight pressure of the wet cotton against his skin, but after a long moment of silence, he says, “I guess I’ll have to wait for you to figure this thing out, detective. Going in blind clearly hasn’t been working to my advantage.”

Shinichi snorts, absently running the back of his finger over the newly clean cut on the dip between KID’s right shoulder and neck. “That’s an understatement.”

KID shudders, face turning slightly to look up at Shinichi. “What are you doing?”

Shinichi pulls his hand away, face burning. “Just checking the wound,” he says, swallowing around the sudden lump in his throat. 

KID raises an eyebrow but accepts his answer, turning back around and tilting his head to the side as if to give easier access. Shinichi covers his red face with one hand and moves on to one of the grazes over KID’s ribs.

“It’s fine,” he says, almost choking on the words, “you don’t need to move your head.”

“Oh, okay,” KID says, tilting his head forward, chin resting on his chest as he waits for Shinichi to finish cleaning out the rest of his wounds.

In all the time they’ve known each other - all the occasions where he’s been close enough to KID to smell the scent of his shampoo - Shinichi’s never actually seen this much of his bare skin. It’s a temptation that he knows he can’t give into, and the fact that KID is giving him free reign to touch him like this makes him tingly all over, nervous and excited at the same time. His skin is so smooth - Shinichi wants nothing more than to run his finger over his spine and all the way down, stopping just before it dips under the waistband of his pants. He’s too weak to this, too unaccustomed to having KID right in front of him, soft, warm back exposed, a sign of trust so fragile Shinichi can do nothing but hold his breath and hope it doesn’t break between his palms. 

Once he’s finished, he says, ”I’m done,” and drags a hand over his eyes, mind running with endless possibilities, wishing he could do a thousand things and knowing he can’t - he shouldn’t. “I’m gonna wrap your wounds now, okay?” He bends down to grab one of the bandage rolls on the ground and walks around KID so he’s facing his front again.

KID eyes the bandages in his hands and wrinkles his nose. “Can’t hurt more than the cleaning did.”

“I guess that depends on the person doing it.”

“Be gentle?” KID asks, a teasing edge to his voice even though the grin on his face is nothing compared to his usual ones. This is what real pain looks like on KID’s face, Shinichi thinks, and hopes he never has to see it again.

“I’ll try,” he says, and steps forward, hands coming up to circle the bandages around KID’s middle once, then twice, then three times, before wrapping them over his shoulders and chest in a similar manner. Once he's done, he pats them down, hands gentle and careful, making sure they're properly tight and won't come off with KID's usual brand of erratic movements. Satisfied with his work, he finally steps back to take in the full lines of white against KID's tanned complexion. "You need to check those for infection every day, the last thing we need is for you to get a fever right now." 

KID stares at him, eyes unreadable. He opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again and says, "Thanks," so quiet it almost gets carried away by the wind.

Shinichi feels the back of his neck heat up and looks away, afraid that it might show on his face. "Just try not to get hurt again." 

"Hah." KID runs a hand through his hair and lets out a tired sigh. "Will you take care of me again if I do?”

Shinichi scowls, hiding the way his heart skips a beat at the words. “Don’t mistake this for what it isn’t. I need you alive to get back to Japan.”

KID grins, a real one this time. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Shut up,” Shinichi says through gritted teeth, pushing a hand against KID’s face, careful not to touch his injuries. “Get dressed already, we should go.”

KID is still grinning when he pulls his hand away, but it’s softer now, the teasing edge gone from the curl of his lips. “You’re a good guy, Kudou.”

“And you’re an idiot.”

The laugh he gets in return is bright and easy, unlike the smug melodic ones he's so used to hearing.

Shinichi ignores the way his heart attempts to fly out of his chest and says, a little dazed, “The air in Singapore is dangerous, I think.”

“What?” KID asks, eyebrows furrowed. His cheeks are pink from laughing and his eyes are bright again, no longer covered by a haze of pain.

“Never mind,” Shinichi says, turning around to pick up the medical supplies left on the floor, his whole body burning with longing. “You wouldn’t understand anyway.”

END.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope that was enough pining for yall 
> 
> find me at @wingsoutforshin on twt


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